


Call Your Name

by Jyeen



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, 進撃！巨人中学校 | Shingeki! Kyojin Chuugakkou | Attack on Titan: Junior High
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Lots of backstory, M/M, No Name, Singer!Guitarist!Songwriter!Levi, Some minor (and temporary) EreKuri, Songfic, Violinist!Eren, dodge them cliches, hopefully funny
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-07-27 20:04:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16226360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jyeen/pseuds/Jyeen
Summary: Eren learned to play violin from his mother, showing promise at a young age. Not as much progress at his sister, however, who turned out to be nothing less than a child prodigy once she joined the Jaeger family. Now, even as he works to complete his junior year as a music major at the University of Trost, Eren still can't seem to escape Mikasa's shadow.Music became Levi's escape during high school, when all he had to look forward to at home was his uncle's neglect and illegal business deals. When he meets two freaks, Hanji and Mike, who practically drag him into playing in their band, Levi discovers he has an incredible natural talent. If No Name's success continues, he can say goodbye to the life Kenny planned for him for good.What neither of them can plan for, however, is exactly what happens, and it's all because of goddamn poor road maintenance!





	1. Overture

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!  
> I really wasn't happy with how this chapter turned out when I posted it a few months ago. I was writing from a place of pent up frustration, and it just wasn't working. But now I've had some time, and all I'm going to pour into my writing is love! I've made a few minor changes (not too significant) to this chapter, so if you've read it already, feel free to ignore it and move on to the next chapter, which is coming very soon!  
> Shoutout to SailorHeichou's "Leave Your Lover" (which I loved, btw!) for inspiring the SongFic aspects of this work.  
> For each chapter, I'll put one alternative song and one violin piece in the notes. The songs could have something to do with how the characters are feeling, what's happening in the plot, or they could just set the mood for reading! (I admit there are also a few Your Lie in April/Shigatsu wa Kimi no Uso easter eggs in there). All the "original" songs by No Name in this fic will have their names (and possibly more) taken from the Attack on Titan OST by Hiroyuki Sawano. This chapter's songs are [Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UGqDQKLUXko) and [Saint-Saëns' "Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N22c3_8gL4Q).  
> Enjoy!

“Fuck!”

It took all of my self-control not to knock the music stand to the ground. This wasn’t working at all. Dr. Brzenska’s words from that morning echoed through my head, her tone as disinterested as if she were reading the terms and conditions.

 _“You can’t just play the notes, Eren. You have to_ feel _it. It’s supposed to be “Love’s Sorrow”, but you make it sound more like a child throwing a tantrum.”_

The memory made my fingers tighten convulsively around my bow in fury. I had lightened the pressure on the strings, tilted the stick of the bow away from my body so that only a few hairs brushed the strings, and still, there was nothing but anger in the vibrations that filled the claustrophobic practice room. “Love’s Sorrow, Love’s Sorrow,” I chanted to myself, situating the violin back on my shoulder. My fingers fell into their familiar place over the neck of my instrument, and my eyes fluttered closed with a long exhale.

([X](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nFQSH5rzO9o))

The first notes of the piece started slowly, picking up speed as the melody took shape. My smooth, legato bow strokes were abruptly interrupted by a short lift, which I executed flawlessly. None of it mattered, though. Instead of sounding plaintive, as Dr. Brzenska had instructed, the notes were flat with insincerity. I kept my eyes closed, doing my best to block out the irritation building in my shoulders, but the sounds that were coming from my violin were only growing in coarseness until the strings were practically creaking and—

“Fuck!”

This time I did give the stand a good kick. Fritz Kreisler’s “Liebesleid” fluttered through the air before landing face-down on the cold tile floor. If anyone passing in the hallway heard my violent swearing and the accompanying crash, they didn’t react. It wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence in the music building, especially since I had started attending the University of Trost.

I was wasting my time here. I removed my shoulder rest with a jerk and began packing up. I was spinning my wheels with no progress, just like I seemed to be during most of my practice sessions these days. It wasn’t healthy to coop myself up in this cramped room for hours on end, but I was never satisfied with my playing anymore. It only made me angry in the end, but I didn’t know what else to do.

As I locked the practice room behind me, I heard another door swing open on the other side of the hall. “Another productive rehearsal, I see,” drawled a voice.

I shot my patented death glare at the young man grinning at me with an annoyingly straight smile. “Fuck off, Jean.”

Jean only laughed. “What was that, duet for dying cat and rage issues?”

Don’t lose your head, don’t lose your head, don’t lose your head…

Stretching a tight-lipped smile across my face, I replied with exaggerated politeness, “I’m sure your performance would steal the show anyway. Most people have never seen a horse playing tuba before.”

“French horn, Jaeger!” Jean pouted. After almost three years, the equestrian comments had started to lose their effect, much to my dismay. “One would think you’d know the difference by now, what with your sister—”

“Don’t you have practicing to do?” I interrupted with a growl.

“I didn’t just pop out to complement your musicianship,” Jean smirked. “Reiner was telling me that some of the gang was planning on getting together tonight. Some event or something. Figured I might as well give you a heads up, since I’m such a nice guy.”

I raised a single severe eyebrow. “What kind of event?” I probed hesitantly.

Jean shrugged, casually tipping the saliva out of his instrument. My nose wrinkled in disgust. “Whatever it is, the MTs won’t shut up about it in the group chat. I had to turn off my phone so all the fucking notifications wouldn’t interrupt my practice.”

Setting my case on the floor, I slipped my silenced phone out of my pocket and was able to confirm that what Jean said was true. Our “104th Cadets” group chat (it was an inside joke that had somehow kept going since freshman year) cheerfully informed me of the 94 new unread messages, and most of them did seem to be from Connie and Sasha, the two Musical Theatre majors.

I sighed and slipped the device back into his pocket. “I’m driving home to Shiganshina for the weekend to visit my dad, so I might not have time tonight. Try not to miss me too much.”

Jean just snorted. Exactly like a horse _,_ I couldn’t help thinking to himself.

“I’m heading out,” I called over my shoulder as I made my way toward the exit with my violin. “Why don’t you get back to spitting into your kazoo?”

“Fuck you too, Jaeger,” Jean shouted after me, then slammed the door. A moment later, the soaring notes of a symphony followed me as I made my way toward the parking lot.

“Bastard sounds pretty good,” I grumbled under my breath, clenching my teeth. Still not as good as Mikasa, though.

Then again, no one was ever as good at Mikasa.

 

* * *

 

**_queen of the potatoes:_ ** _They’re free tix, you have no excuses_ _;p_

**_Point Break :_ ** _I’m going! Does anybody need a ride?_

**_Sir Patrick Stewart:_ ** _group field trip! Everybody has to go!_

**_Your Worshipfulness:_ ** _None of you are allowed to skip this or I will tell Ymir to suffocate you all in your sleep._

**_freckled bitch:_ ** _I’ll fucking do it yall_

**_Sir Patrick Stewart:_ ** _how about we DON’T do that_ _o_o_

**_Point Break:_ ** _I’m taking Annie and Bert. What about you, **@Mr. Ed**?_

**_Mr. Ed:_ ** _I’m too busy playing actually good music to have time to go to your stupid rock concert. Count me out._

**_queen of the potatoes:_ ** _YOU TAKE THAT BACK_

**_Your Worshipfulness:_ ** _I KNOW WHERE YOU SLEEP, JEAN KIRSCHTEIN!_

 

“Eren? You in here?”

“Yeah, on the couch!” I shouted as I lay scrolling through my messages.

 A petite blonde stepped into the apartment, arms sagging under the weight of several grocery bags. “A little help,” he grunted with a short laugh.

“Did you buy the whole fucking store?” I questioned dryly, jumping up and taking some of the burden with ease.

“Well, it’s not like my roommate ever remembers that we need food to survive,” the imp commented. “Honestly, Eren, you have to take better care of yourself. You’re so busy and stressed all the time, no wonder you’re always frustrated.”

“I do take care of myself,” I said defensively, starting to put the groceries away.

Sapphire blue eyes shot me an incredulous side-glance. “Bitch, please. You’ve been eating nothing but hot pockets ever since we finished off the chowder I made a week ago. Do you even know how to boil water?”

“Yes, I know how to fucking _boil water,_ Armin.”

Armin clicked his tongue. “You’re doing that thing again where you pretend you’re fine and just bottle up your emotions until you explode on some unsuspecting soul.”

“Oh, so you’re a psychology major now?”

“No, I’m an _artist,_ like you.” He reached up and placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “I know what it’s like to hit a roadblock and just feel _stuck._ I can’t tell you how many times I’m running through a scene in my head and it just feels off, you know? Maybe the dialogue sounds unnatural, or the editing just won’t flow. What you need is some genuine inspiration. Something out of your comfort zone, something to disrupt your normal routine.” He suddenly snapped his fingers, seeming to have a revelation. “What about that concert tonight? You should come with us!”

I was staring into the freezer, trying to find space for a package of frozen chicken breasts. Damn, he was right about the hot pockets after all _._ “You’re going?”

Armin nodded eagerly. “Oh yeah. It’s an alternative band called No Name. Sasha, Connie, Historia, and Reiner are all hardcore fans. I think Annie and Ymir listen to them too, sometimes.”

“I didn’t know you liked alternative music.”

“Yeah, well.” Armin came to my rescue, re-arranging the containers to make room for the new addition. “I don’t usually listen to that genre, but I do follow this particular band.”

I looked at him quizzically. “How come? Are they that good?”

My roommate shrugged and hopped up onto the countertop, letting his feet dangle. “Like I said, I’m no expert on alternative music. I guess they’re pretty good, they’re on the local radio station sometimes, and they have a lot of fans in the region. Their hometown isn’t too far from here. But my personal interest is in their lead singer. Levi Ackerman is … mmm, spicy, shall we say.”

I couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “Spicy, huh?”

“Shut up!” Armin reprimanded, trying to hide a grin as his cheeks flushed pink. “He’s a very handsome man, okay? God, I’m feeling so attacked right now. This apartment is a judgement-free zone, remember!”

“Uh huh,” I responded, drawing out the syllables teasingly. “Wow, Armin, this whole time I thought you were some really insightful and considerate person, but now I’m starting to see just how shallow you really are.”

“Oh honey, don’t act as if I haven’t given you my opinion on every male in the entirety of the College of Fine Arts.”

I snickered. He wasn’t lying.

Armin flipped his hair out of his face, changing the subject. “But anyway, this could be exactly what you need to get you out of your violinist’s block! Besides, it would be more fun if you came.”

I carefully considered my best friend’s words. I’d never really listened to much alternative music myself (all my playlists and CDs were filled with Sarasate, Vivaldi, Barber, Paganini, Saint-Saëns, and the like), but maybe Armin had a point. I needed a change. Only…

“I have to drive to Shiganshina tonight, remember?” I sighed. “I’m visiting my dad over the weekend.”

“You can still come for part of it, at least!” Armin reasoned earnestly. “If it gets to be too late and you gotta go, then go. But will your dad really mind if you’re a little later than expected?”

“… I mean, I didn’t tell him a specific time to expect me or anything—”

“Perfect!” The glamorous blonde slipped off the counter and walked quickly into his bedroom. “C’mon, we’ve only got an hour before we have to leave! Text the others that we’re coming, then get your ass in here. I don’t have much time to work my magic, but I’ll at least make sure we don’t go to this concert looking like we’re homeless.”

“You are _not_ getting me to wear skinny jeans.”

“We’ll see about that!”

I shook my head, smiling. Maybe this _would_ help me out. Who knows, it could even be fun. Nevertheless, I had a sneaking suspicion that once again, Armin had successfully manipulated me into enabling his own less-than-innocent ulterior motives.

 

* * *

 

“So this is the place?” I asked Armin as I shut the car door firmly behind me. We were about five minutes outside of Trost, parked in a mowed field with at least a hundred other vehicles. Thankfully it had been a warm winter so far, so outdoor concerts were at least possible, though I was still shivering slightly as I pulled my beaten leather jacket tighter around my body when a sharp breeze swept across the countryside. Thankfully I had talked Armin out of squeezing me into those god-awful skinny jeans. Instead, my outfit wasn’t much different from normal: dark acid wash jeans and a T-shirt that was a size too big for me.

“Yep!” Armin shut his own door and walked around the car to stand next to me. Ripped black skinny jeans hugged his slight form, while an oversized loose-knit sweater hung from his shoulders. Somehow, the result made him look ready for a rock concert while not losing any of his huggability. How is that even possible? Well, if anyone could pull it off, Armin could.

“Hey, Eren, Armin!”

We both turned and caught sight of the burly blonde who was waving at us and flashing a bright smile. Behind him trailed three other figures, like ducklings following their unusually well-muscled mother.

“Reiner!” Armin called in greeting.

As the group approached, I recognized Bertholdt’s awkwardly gangly figure and dark mop of hair, and next to him, in sharp contrast, his girlfriend Annie, an expressionless platinum blonde who didn’t even come up to his shoulder. I blinked in surprise, however, when Jean’s telltale two-toned crop came into view.

I crossed his arms, lounging back against the car door. “Would you look at that. What happened to playing your ‘actually good’ music, Misty of Chincoteague?”

Jean shook his head, grumbling. “I swear, if you put half as much effort into practicing as you did into coming up with obscure horse references, you’d be concertmaster by now.”

“It’s a classic, you uneducated prick,” I muttered under his breath, for once ignoring Jean’s dig at my musicianship. I wasn’t quite ready to admit that my need to mock Jean over the years had led to a level appreciation for equestrian literature that wasn’t appropriate for a 20-year-old man.

“Play nice now, you two,” the athletic blonde chided. “It took lots of convincing, but I managed to talk Jean around.”

“Pfft, more like he didn’t want to be left out,” was my exasperated response, just soft enough that Reiner didn’t deign to remark on it.

“C’mon, the others are already here, and we need to get our tickets from them before we can get in.”

 We followed the distant sound of dance music and the flow of people making their way toward the concert venue, which appeared to be a small stage set up in a field a little ways from the makeshift parking lot. Right now I could see the stage was empty except for a drum set and a few mic stands, barely visible in the twilight as the sun rapidly sunk below the horizon. A crowd of about 200, by my estimation, milled around in front, though its size kept increasing as more concert-goers arrived.

There was a chorus of excited shouting as our group was spotted by Connie and Sasha, the two MTs bouncing around us like a duo of overzealous kangaroos. “We’re so glad everyone came!” Sasha exclaimed as she passed out the tickets. “I thought you were busy, Eren?”

“I’ll have to leave early, but I’m really looking forward to the show.” Sasha beamed at my words, and I couldn’t help but return the ponytailed girl’s grin. How she and Connie ever had so much enthusiasm, I would never know. I’d speculated that it must have something to do with being actors. For the most part, the pair were endearingly extroverted and easy to get along with. I had, however, had the misfortune during my sophomore year of sitting next to Sasha in our Theory III class, which took place during lunchtime. I shuddered to myself at the memory. Needless to say it was a kind of hell I never wanted to experience again.

“How did you manage to get free tickets?” Armin asked as he took his from Connie.

“Actually, it was me.”

Two more figures approached, a small girl with golden-blonde hair and large, glittering blue eyes, and a tall, tanned brunette with a healthy splatter of freckles across her cheeks. While the former gave off the impression of being cute and friendly, I knew well that past her adorable exterior resided nothing less than an ice queen that would have made Elsa jealous. The latter didn’t even bother to hide her own abrasive personality. Her challenging stare only softened when she glanced at the girl next to her.

“Historia?” Reiner raised a questioning eyebrow.

The girl’s wide eyes narrowed, and she crossed her arms. “Everyone knows I’m the biggest No Name fan this side of Sina. The people at work generously pitched in to buy the tickets as a surprise for my birthday last week. You’re welcome.”

No doubt Ymir’s doing, I thought and suppressed an eye-roll. It was all too easy to conjure up a mental image of Ymir threatening to murder the other tellers at the Bank of Trost with nothing more than a custom engraved nameplate if they didn’t spoil her roommate on her twenty-first birthday.

The lot of us handed our tickets to the people wearing jackets with the word “STAFF” printed on the back and we were quickly absorbed into the greater audience. “God, I’m so excited!” Sasha squealed. Even her piercing tone was almost drowned out by the pulsing music being played from the loudspeakers. “I wanna get Hanji to sign my shirt!”

“I want them to sign my head!” Connie chimed in and rubbed the fuzz that covered his round scalp.

“Your _head?_ ” I repeated, frowning.

“Yeah! It’ll be so cool!”

Reiner laughed amiably. “Aw, man, I should have brought something for Hanji to sign!” He glanced at the mismatched pair that had so far been silent. “What about you guys? Which member is your favorite?”

Bertholdt glanced at Annie quickly, then stated simply, “We like the drummer.”

“Mike Zacharius?” Reiner nodded. “He’s an interesting one for sure.”

“Mike and Hanji are good, sure,” Historia conceded, “but they’re nothing compared to the musical genius of Levi Ackerman.”

“ _Yas,_ queen! Team Levi to the end!” Armin held up his hand for a high-five, which Historia granted him with such ferocity that the film major was left cradling the unsuspecting extremity with a pout on his face.

I watched with some amusement as the Hanji fans and the Levi fans began to loudly debate the merits of their respective favorite until I felt my phone buzz in my pocket.

 

**_Kasa:_ ** _How’s the recital repertoire coming along?_

My fingers tightened around my iPhone. I inhaled deeply before typing my reply.

 

_I don’t need your help, Mikasa. Dr. B is working with me on it._

Of course she responded mere seconds later.

 

**_Kasa:_ ** _You were just saying that that woman doesn’t know how to work with you. I could come down next weekend and help._

_You’re busy. I can take care of myself._

**_Kasa:_ ** _I’m not that busy._

Liar.

 

“It’s starting!” Connie announced. I realized that the background music was quickly fading out, and an excited hush had fallen over the crowd.

 

_At a concert. Talk later._

**_Kasa:_ ** _Later._

 

The audience went silent as I tucked my device back into my pocket. The sun had completely set, and only a faint glow on the horizon provided light in the otherwise pitch-black field. Or so I thought at first. After glancing around, I realized that the sky above was dotted with stars, several times more than you could see from the city. It was almost magical – the mass of humans, soundlessly humming with energy in the darkness while above them, distant suns glittered like a thousand minuscule diamonds scattered across deep velvet.

“WHAT’S UP, KIDS?!?!?”

The crowd suddenly screamed in response to the wildly enthusiastic voice that blared through the loudspeakers. I resisted the strong urge to clap my hands over my ears. Nearby, Connie and Sasha had joined in the growing chant of “Hanji! Hanji! Hanji!”

The voice laughed. “Alright, alright! I’ve never been very patient anyway, and it’s cold as a witch’s tit in a brass bra out here. Whaddaya say we heat things up, huh?”

The audience cheered in approval, though the stage remained cloaked in shadow.

“Tch, watch your fucking language, Hanji,” another, deeper voice commented over the speakers. Despite the hypocritical reprimand, the voice was tinged with amusement.

If the audience’s screaming had been loud before, it was a whisper compared to the sounds they were making now. I cringed as Armin whooped right in my ear. It was at rare times such as this that I almost forgot how quiet and withdrawn my roommate had been when we’d first met.

“Marry me, Levi!” someone shrieked from across the crowd.

The first voice laughed again. “We’re gonna start tonight with one of our originals from back in the early days. This is [Dead on Arrival](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UKmYQa0kOks).”

A distorted bass guitar riff tore through the air like a jagged knife. After a few seconds, it was joined by a steady beat on the drums. Then the rhythm filled out, and a wailing electric guitar was added on the off-beats. The audience was already clapping in time. I found myself nodding along to the catchy introduction, even though the stage was still completely unlit. I could barely make out a couple vague silhouettes. Suddenly the volume was dialed back as a single guitar played on, accompanied by a low voice.

 

_Can't you see over there?_

_Such a horrible sight_

_They're devouring all like you_

_Here come the giant hands_

_Breaking through the Wall_

_As dawn arrives_

_We still survive_

_Nobody knows what's going on_

_Tearing my town, limb by limb_

_Where are your mom and dad?_

I felt more that saw Armin feign a swoon. “God, he’s even better live.”

Sure, it wasn’t my usual fare, but I had to admit, regardless of what Armin’s true motives had been when he’d coerced me into coming to this concert, it was surprisingly good music. I glanced to my other side. Reiner was bobbing his head with the groove. Connie and Sasha were dancing and singing along in a way that was bound to earn them a stern talking-to from their vocal coaches. Annie and Bertholdt just stood quietly, but Annie had taken the taller man’s hand in hers, and Bertholdt smiled happily to himself as she tapped her foot to the beat.

 

_Was it shocking for you?_

_Something is scaring you_

_Enemies will hunt you_

_No matter what you do_

_But we'll fight for you_

_‘Til we defeat them all_

_If not...there's no way out_

As the chorus came crashing down on us, the stage lights finally blazed to life, nearly blinding me. I had to blink several times, but at long last, No Name finally came into view.

A blond man with some sort of facial hair and a physique that made Reiner look small sat at the drums, striking deftly while his expression remained impassive. At least, what little I could see of his face was neutral. All three band members had several strips of white cloth tied tightly around their heads, covering their eyes. It was an interesting fashion choice, at least. Could they even see? It must be something they were known for, as odd as it was.

On stage right, an eccentric brown-haired bassist was completely opposite of their stoic drummer. I had been under the impression that bass guitar players didn’t move much, but this one was grinning like a maniac, wandering around their side of the stage, jamming like they were having the time of their life up there. That had to be Hanji. So that left…

No Name’s lead vocalist was front and center, picking at a guitar slung around his neck as he leaned into the mic. He had long ebony bangs, so it was difficult for me to tell what his face looked like. Not that I would have been able to see much anyway, with the weird fabric strips. However, I did recognize the guitarist’s movements to a certain extent – the way he curled around his instrument from time to time, or swayed, or bent his knees. It reminded me of the way _I_ moved when playing a piece on my violin that swept me out of myself and took control of my body and mind, becoming one with me. At times like that, it was almost as if the music was playing me, and not the other way around.

 

_Keep your weapons aimed_

_Here comes the chilling face_

_Pushing down your fear_

_Jump on the necks of the monsters_

_You can't hide yourself_

_You can't run_

_We're fighting for our lives_

_And we just cannot lose again_

_There's not much time_

_Be ready to fight_

_Do it_

Hanji harmonized on the lyrics, and the crowd shout-sang along. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Jean mouthing along with the words and smirked. Why was I not surprised he’d had an alternative phase?

 

_I know how you feel_

_But we know what we must do_

_I know how you feel_

_But we know what we must do_

“What did I tell you?” Armin said as the chorus repeated. I looked down to see the sweater-clad blonde gazing at me expectantly. “Spicy, right?”

“Huh?”

Armin groaned in exasperation. “The singer, Levi! If you don’t admit that he’s delicious enough to eat, then I’ll know you’re lying.”

I squinted at the dark-haired vocalist again. He was definitely on the short side, and maybe a little younger than us. His hands moved across the guitar as if the chord positions they formed came as naturally as breathing. His light skin and loose, dark hair gave him something of a goth vibe. Or maybe it was punk? I didn’t really know the difference.

I cocked his head at Armin playfully. “Tastier than a stack of blueberry pancakes with whipped cream and maple syrup.”

The remark earned me a swat on the arm and an eye-roll. “You’re making fun of me.”

“Pretty sure that’s what best friends are for.”

“Ugh, I hate you.”

“Naw, we both know you love me.”

Another swat on the arm. “Bitch,” Armin grumbled, but he couldn’t quite keep his face straight.

 

_Was it shocking for you?_

_Something is scaring you_

_Enemies will hunt you_

_No matter what you do_

My eye traveled back to the stage as the song drew to a close. When the final note cut off, the crowd jumped up and down and screamed (Again. Weren’t they getting sore throats yet?) Hanji threw their hands in the air and waved, blowing kisses to the fans. Mike pushed bangs out of his face, already dripping with sweat. And for the first time, Levi fully raised his head and I saw his fair cheeks tinted with pink, and he was panting slightly from the exertion of the performance. Levi looked (again, could he actually see?) at the crowd of ravenous fans and grinned cheekily. “How was that for a warm-up?”

The audience roared their approval, causing Levi to release a single soft laugh in the microphone. It was about right then that something finally clicked in my mind.

_Spicy._


	2. Subito

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's start this off with a BANG! *ba dum tss*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm SO sorry it's taken me this long to update! I hate making excuses, so let's just leave it there with my sincerest apologies! I'll try to do better!  
> Songs for this chapter are [The Neighbourhood's Sweater Weather](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cULQhvuq1Zc) and [Max Richter's Berlin by Overnight](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LoqZ-gxxR04).  
> I'm going to be making a Spotify playlist of all the songs for this fic! Link will be in the notes for the next chapter!

My finger reflexively tapped against the steering wheel to the beat of the song that was playing from the car radio. After the concert, Armin had squeezed into Reiner’s car (squeezed was a bit of an exaggeration, since Annie and Armin could have comfortably split one seat between the two of them) and I had reluctantly said my farewells and driven alone into the countryside. I hadn’t planned on staying for the entire concert, but as No Name cranked out one jam after another, I was surprised to find myself really getting into the music. Mike, Hanji, and Levi were all excellent musicians. Despite not being very familiar with the instruments they played, I could tell that much. I’d found myself completely captivated by the movement of Levi’s nimble fingers over the guitar strings, precise and without a hint of hesitation, or when Mike would do a complex fill and his drumsticks would move faster than my eye could follow. And Hanji . . . well, Hanji was so animated during the entire show that it was difficult _not_ to stare at them. Now, as I cruised across dark country roads (my phone said it was a more direct route to the highway than going back into town), I had the radio dial set on the local alternative station. Crooning vocals and a steady beat crackled from the speakers, distracting me from the fact that the air outside the car had dipped well below freezing and my shitty car’s heater refused to compensate. Rather than forking out the cash to fix it, I’d simply bundled up and relied on my natural body heat to get me through the three-hour drive to my hometown. I was still paying off the loans for my violin, which happened to cost several times the price of my LeSabre. The unfortunate-looking gray sedan was even older than I was. But it mostly functioned, which was enough.

It was late, just past midnight. The crisp air warded off most of the temptation to just pull over and take a nap on the middle of nowhere. Despite that, my thoughts couldn’t really focus on the white stripes that steadily flashed past. The smell of the cold field was fresh in my nose, the swell of the music thrumming through my chest while Armin’s muffled _squee_ s could be heard every now and then. I had to admit it – my best friend had been right about dragging me to the concert, whatever his true motives. Maybe the next time I sequestered himself in a practice room, I would actually –

_Bang!_

The muffled explosion made me jump in my seat. I refocused on the road in front of me to see a nondescript green van – I vaguely remembered it being in front of me for several miles now – go careening off the asphalt.

“What the . . .” I squinted through the windshield, scanning the pavement in front of me before my eyes suddenly widened. I lunged for the brake—

_BANG! BANG!_

“Fucking shit!” I shouted as the car jolted violently, fingers uselessly gripping the steering wheel trying to maintain some sort of control. There was this terrible grinding sound of metal on asphalt. I managed to slow the car enough not to plunge into the ditch, but it was a close thing.

For a moment I didn’t move, simply breathing hard as adrenaline coursed through my veins. “God fucking dammit,” I growled, forcefully unbuckling my seatbelt and shoving the door open. The icy wind cut right through me, worming its way between the folds of my jacket. Shivering, I ran around to the other side of the car and groaned at the sight of both my right tires in shreds. This was just my luck, to have two tires blow out at midnight in January in the middle of fucking nowhere with only one spare. I grimly considered my chances of getting to Shiganshina on only three tires and winced. I’d have to drive so slow I wouldn’t arrive until sunrise at least. It wasn’t a cheerful prospect.

Resigning myself to calling for one of my friends to come rescue me, I fished my phone out of my jacket pocket, blinking at the brightness of the screen. My eyes flicked to two little words at the top that made my stomach drop. _No Service._ “Fuck!” I tilted my head back, eyes pinched closed as the chilly breeze whipped my hair around. Maybe if I stood here long enough, I’d freeze solid like Captain America and wake up in seventy years once they’d built a fucking cell tower out here. Of course, I’d have bigger problems at that point, but at the moment I couldn’t really bring myself to care.

Grumbling, I set to work, yanking open the trunk to retrieve the spare, car jack, and lug wrench. I could hear the sound of voices in the distance, but they were too far away to understand and I soon tuned them out as I focused on the task at hand, loosening the lug nuts on my front right tire and beginning to jack up the car. My hands soon went numb from the prolonged contact with the cold metal, and I fumbled as I swapped the tires. Maybe it would be better to turn around and limp back to Trost. Dad could hardly blame me after something like this, but the thought of having to tell him to cancel our plans made me feel sick to my stomach.

“Hey!”

I’d almost forgotten about the other innocent vehicle that had fallen victim to whatever death trap we’d run over. A figure was jogging toward me from down the road, waving an arm to catch my attention. “Hello there!” they called jovially. “Got you too, huh?”

I scowled and straightened as the person stepped into the light of my high beams. The young woman (I think?) had her chocolate brown hair pulled back into a sloppy bun, and thick glasses could barely dull the manic energy sparking in her warm brown eyes. Perfect, it looked like I was stranded with the living embodiment of an espresso shot. “Yeah,” I responded cautiously.

Her hands wrapped around her arms, rubbing at the bare skin as she shivered in front of me. “Shit, it’s cold out here! We blew both tires too, and that van’s not going anywhere even with the spare we have. Are you getting a signal on your phone?”

“No.”

She nodded several times. “Neither are ours. We’re traveling with some other people, though, so they’ll eventually catch up and find us.” Her bright gaze fell to my ruined tire and tools. “You plan on driving like that?”

I moved to run my fingers through my hair in agitation, but caught myself at the last second, remembering the greasy black stains on my hands. “I don’t know. I’m trying to get to Shiganshina.”

Espresso-chick gaped at me. “Shiganshina? That’s almost three hours away! You expect to get that wreck on the highway?” She didn’t bother waiting for a response. “You should wait for our friends to show up! They can get a tow for you to Trost.”

I chewed my lip. As much as I wanted to be there for Dad this weekend, I knew that the last thing he would want me to do was make some stupid-ass decision with my sleep-deprived brain and end up damaging the car even more, or worse, getting into an accident on the highway. On rare occasions, I did in fact possess the ability rein in my natural tendency to shoot first and ask questions later. _Rare_ occasions, mind you.

“Alright,” I acquiesced, tightening the last nut on the fresh tire. “Thanks.”

The woman beamed. It struck me that something about her seemed familiar. Her voice, maybe? She also reminded me a bit of Sasha, so it could just be that. “Actually, it’d be a great help if you would walk with me to find whatever popped our tires. It wouldn’t do us much good if our knights in shining armor arrived only to increase the number of damsels in distress.”

I snorted as I packed the tools back into the trunk. “Yeah.”

She cocked her head at me as we began walking along the side of the road. A tiny smirk played with the corner of her mouth. “Not exactly loquacious, are ya?”

“Huh?”

“You don’t talk much.”

Truthfully, I thought she talked enough for the both of us, moving from one train of thought to the next without a second in between for me to sneak in a comment even if I’d wanted to. I’d always had pretty strong opinions, and when I was younger, I’d had absolutely no problem bragging and telling other people exactly what I thought, whether or not they wanted to hear it. After a while, though, I’d learned that it was a lot easier to get by if you kept your thoughts to yourself. The only people who I felt comfortable sharing with were my closest friends. Poor Armin had heard so many “Eren Rants” by now that I should probably name my firstborn after him or something as a means of recompense.

“Would you look at that!”

My companion let the uncomfortable conversation end there as we approached what seemed to be a twisted piece of metal. It was bent beyond recognition, sharp ends jutting out in every direction. No wonder this thing had taken out four tires, it could probably stop a goddammed tank.

“It might be from one of the farms around here,” the brown-haired woman mused, “or maybe it fell off a truck! In any case, it’s a wicked roadblock. A sadistic contraption after my own heart.”

I was starting to become very concerned about the fact that I was alone with this woman out in the middle of nowhere.

Working together, it only took a few seconds for us to clear the road. As we started back toward our cars, the wind blew again, sharper than before. I shuddered and pulled my jacket tighter. “Damn car’s gonna be like a freezer,” I muttered, not looking forward to the potentially long wait.

“Turn on your heater,” the brunette suggested.

“It’s broken.”

Her face snapped toward me. “What? Are you telling me you were planning to drive to Shiganshina in a car without a working heater?”

“Yep.”

She made some sort of disturbed sound in her throat, grabbing tightly onto my elbow. “You should come sit with us in the van, then! It’s nice and warm, and it would be so nice to have someone new to talk to while we waited!”

How had I gotten into this situation? I was stranded in the middle of the countryside, with no way to contact anyone, a crazy stranger clutching my arm and trying to get me to join her in a suspiciously unmarked run-down van. If there was a checklist for most cliché abduction warnings, I would have been able to check all the boxes.

Still, it was colder than balls out here, and my brain was feeling more and more numb by the minute. So, like a dumbass with a deathwish, I followed the woman past my car and then the 20 or so yards farther until we reached forest green van, its two flat right tires causing the whole vehicle to lean slightly. “You can meet my two best friends,” my potential kidnapper said cheerfully, and pulled the sliding door open.

“Jesus Christ, Shitty Glasses!” a lower voice snapped angrily as the cold air invaded the interior of the van. “If you don’t shut that fucking door in the next five seconds, so help me, I will take those shitty glasses right off your disgusting face and shove them up your ass.”

Best friend, huh?

“I brought home a new pet!” the woman chimed, which really did _not_ reassure me. She clambered into the back of the van, motioning for me to do the same. There were two rows of seats facing each other, torn up green leather with the stuffing coming out here and there. It was probably a pretty safe bet to assume this van was at least a decade older than me. The guy who had spoken was laying across one of the rows, propping himself up on his elbows and eyeing us with annoyance. When his eyes finally landed on me, I immediately got the impression that he was sizing me up. Everything about this guy was high contrast: half-shaved dark hair and eyes but fair skin, short in stature (Even shorter than Armin, if I had to guess) but with an intimidating air that immediately made me feel defensive. After a few seconds he slumped down onto his back again, not seeming to find anything of interest during his scrutiny.

“Levi, this is my new friend—um . . . shit, what’s your name again?” the brunette asked apologetically, glancing back over her shoulder at me. For some reason, her eyes widened in surprise. I guess she hadn’t seen my face properly until now that I was illuminated by the yellow light from the van’s interior. Was I not what she had expected?

“Eren,” I supplied, internally kicking myself a second later. Why did I give her my real name? What the hell had happened to all that stuff about stranger danger that had been drilled into my head since I was old enough to walk? Where were my trusty survival instincts? I was an evolutionary failure of magnificent proportions. “And you never asked me.”

“Hanji,” she said with a toothy grin, offering me her hand, which is waved off, not wanting to spread my grease stains. “I use they/them pronouns, if you please.”

Oops.

“So that’s Levi,” Hanji continued the introductions, pointing first to the short man who looked as if he were trying to ignore us enough to go to sleep, “and then Mike’s up in the front.”

“S’up,” called a deep voice from the driver’s seat.

Hanji. Levi. Mike.

Slowly, agonizingly, the cogs in my muddled brain clicked into place.

“You’re that band,” I uttered in semi-disbelief. “The band that performed tonight!”

If you’d asked me a second ago whether or not Hanji’s smile could get any bigger, I would have said no. How wrong I was. “You know our music?”

“Yeah!” Despite everything, I could feel the buzz of excitement cut through the fogginess of my mind and body. “My friends and I were at your concert!”

Levi groaned, rolling over and burying his face in his arm in an attempt to better ignore us. “Great job, Shitty Glasses, you rescued a fucking fanboy.”

What the hell was this guy’s problem? He wasn’t anything like this onstage. Back then, all of his insults had been playful, some even bordering on flirtatious. Was the man of Armin’s dreams really such an asshole in real life?

Oh, shit. Armin was going to straight up _murder_ me when he found out about this.

“Would it _kill_ you to contain your cynicism?” Hanji pouted, then unexpectedly flung their arms around me, squishing me against them. To my embarrassment, I think I yelped. “We love our fans! We wouldn’t be able to do any of this without them! Show a little appreciation, short stuff!”

“Tch!”

I think I was with Levi on this one. Hanji’s definition of appreciation was currently bruising my ribs.

“So, _Eren,_ ” Hanji cooed, finally releasing me, though they continued to exhibit little to no understanding of personal space as they leaned in, their coffee-colored eyes filling the better part of my vision. “What did you think of tonight?”

I swallowed. “I think you’re all very talented musicians.”

“O _ho!_ ” Hanji wiggled their eyebrows. “Aren’t you an interesting one?”

_What?_

Seeing my flummoxed expression, Hanji elaborated. “Most people will say something about the concert being fun, or that the music was good. Your response, in comparison, was very specific. Makes me curious about what exactly you were paying attention to.”

“Oh, I mean—” Why was I getting so nervous and tongue-tied? It’s not like I was a long-time fan or anything like some of my friends, and it wasn’t in my nature to act shy or embarrassed. What was wrong with me tonight? “The concert _was_ lots of fun, and the music was great—”

Hanji shook their head rapidly at me. “No, no, don’t say that now! I’m trying to construct a hypothesis. Now, tell me, what about our performance made you think we were good musicians?”

Goddammit, were my cheeks burning? Maybe it was just an effect of coming into the almost sticky-warm van after being out in the biting wind for so long. Yeah, that had to be it. The fact that I was being stared at so intently – even Levi was glancing at me from under his arm, waiting for my response – definitely had nothing to do with it. “Well . . . your guys had a really diverse set, covering lots of different styles, but you were still able to create a different timbre for each one without compromising your blend or artistry. When you modulated keys or had a tempo change, you were all so synchronized that it was always really smooth. It was like you were all one instrument, instead of three different people. Oh, and I was really impressed by your dynamic range, I thought it was used really effectively without being disconcerting.”

My impromptu review ended barely louder than a murmur, my embarrassment so thick in the air I was almost compelled to open the van’s door and hope the frosty wind would blow it away. At some point Mike had turned around in his seat to stare at me as well, and I was beginning to feel like some weird sea creature that everyone stopped to ogle at an aquarium. God, Jeager, why are you so stupid? These are rock musicians, not people in your theory class. Nobody uses the word _timbre_ unless they’re talking about long-dead white dudes. I wanted to kick myself in the face. I must sound like such a pretentious assho—

“Thank _GOD!_ ” Hanji squealed, wrenching me out of my self-deprecating inner monologue and grabbing my hands tightly in theirs. “You don’t look like one, but I had a feeling! You don’t know how long I’ve been looking for someone like you!”

I think I made some sort of questioning sound, but in all honesty I was on the verge of fight or flight at this point and words weren’t really a thing I could do at the moment.

Hanji seemed to understand my nonverbal question. “A nerd! You’re a music nerd, just like me! These two,” they gestured to Levi and Mike vaguely, “don’t care about all the juicy stuff. They just play things by ear. But you! No, my dear, sweet Eren, you and I are different! We are not satisfied with the simple explanation! We dive under the skin of the music, examine the physics, the chemistry, the physiology!” I had a feeling that Hanji was fast approaching the point of letting loose a maniacal laugh or two, but something else must have struck them at that moment. “Do you play? What instrument?”

“Um. Violin.”

“Oh!” They pulled back a bit, glancing over me again. “Classical?”

I nodded.

Those coffee brown eyes were like X-rays, scanning over my body, my attire, taking in new data. “You don’t really look like a classical violinist. How long have you been playing?”

I wasn’t offended, but the assumption did annoy me some. Enough to give me back at least a bit of my backbone. “We don’t just go around wearing tuxedos all the time. And I’ve been playing for sixteen years. I’m getting my bachelor’s in Violin Performance from UT right now.”

To Hanji’s credit, they didn’t give me the ‘I-can’t-tell-if-you’re-joking-or-not” look that I got from most people when I told them my major. Yeah, I knew I didn’t exactly look like the orchestra poster child. My outfits were usually pretty lazy – whatever was comfortable, usually jeans and T-shirts, sometimes with a flannel to cover my arms in cooler weather. Armin told me I had resting angry face, which was half due to my defined brows and half due to the fact that I had a habit of glaring at everything. Throw in my piercings (two on each ear and a small nose stud), my overgrown brown hair, and my charming personality and you ended up with what probably looked like a halfhearted attempt at a grunge aesthetic. Probably not the kind of person you’d expect to be obsessing over Barber’s Violin Concerto.

“Sixteen years? That’s quite some time! You must be very good by now!”

My smile didn’t quite reach my eyes. “Yeah, well, not nearly as good as—”

“They’re here!” Mike called from up front just as a loud honk sounded from down the road.

Levi muttered a weary “thank fucking god” which Hanji jumped to their feet and wrenched the door open. All of us winced and shuddered as the cold air hit us. That didn’t seem to stifle Hanji’s boundless energy, however. “It’s Erwin!” they crowed, dashing out of the dingy van to wave down our rescuers. “Over here! Hello!”

I peeked my head outside and saw several vehicles had pulled up behind us, the first being a white Ford that was probably big enough to roll right over the Great Wall of China. _Someone_ must be compensating for something.

“Hanji!” The driver’s side door opened and my jaw opened with it. Okay, I take back the compensating comment. This guy looked like he’d stepped right out of a cologne commercial. His masculine features were still young, and his dreamy blue eyes were pinched with worry as he approached Hanji. He wasn’t what I would usually consider to be my type, but that nicely filled out shirt was a pretty convincing argument.

Prince Charming’s gaze snapped to the ruined tires and he sighed, running a hand through his soft-looking golden hair. Oh my god. I needed to look away before my ovaries ruptured. “What the hell happened?”

Hanji began their explanation and I pulled back into the shelter of the van, drawing my jacket tighter around me. “Who’s that?” I tried to ask without sounding too interested.

In the seats across from me, Levi had curled up so tightly that I might have mistaken him for a large cat, entirely hidden under a fraying blanket except for some hair on the top of his head that stuck out. “Eyebrows,” came his muffled reply, which only confused me more.

“Erwin Smith is our manager,” Mike provided, turning around in his seat. “He was studying Business but left in his last year to run around with us fools. Levi calls him Eyebrows.”

“How come?”

Levi pulled down the blanket enough to shoot me an incredulous stare. “Have you _seen_ him?”

I glanced back outside, where Erwin was holding some sort of communication device against his ear, speaking quickly and nodding. He did have very defined eyebrows – even more than mine – but I hadn’t noticed them before, having been distracted by . . . everything else.

Hanji sprinted back towards us, almost bowling me over as they lunged into the van. “Erwin’s calling for a tow to take Bean back to Trost to fix him up,” they announced to their bandmates, “so we’ll have to ride with him in Sawney to Klorva. Eren, is there someone you’d like to call?”

“I just need another spare tire, then I’ll be good for now,” I assured them.

Hanji’s eyes lit up. “We won’t be using our spare. Would that work for you?”

“Pretty sure it’s supposed to be a universal fit,” Mike added.

Were they actually serious? “I . . . I can’t do that!” I sputtered. “Do you know how expensive those things are?”

“You can pay us back later,” Hanji said dismissively. “Well?”

If I wanted to get to Shiganshina tonight, this was the only way. My wallet would be a bit sore after paying the band back and buying proper new tires, but I realized with a start that I wouldn’t hate running into No Name again. They were interesting people. Wanting to be swallowed up in Erwin Smith’s endless sapphire eyes certainly had nothing to do with it, no sirree.

“Sounds like a plan!” I grinned at Hanji.

My grin was reflected back at me tenfold. “Excellent! Levi!”

The blanketed figure groaned. “What?”

“Help Eren get the spare tire!”

“Fuck off.”

Hanji mercilessly ripped Levi’s blanket off, exposing the pocket-sized front man. Levi hissed fiercely at them like an angry alley cat, and it would have been really funny if the sound hadn’t sent terrified shivers down my spine. Hanji, however, seemed to have developed an immunity to her friend’s antics. “You’re stronger than me or Mike! Get off your ass and help!”

“Jesus Christ, fine!” he snarled, clambering to his feet. If he’d just been a little shorter, he could have stood up straight inside the van without hitting his head. “C’mon, brat, let’s fix your fucking car.”

I scowled as I followed Levi around to the back of the van where the spare was. “I’m not a brat! I’m almost twenty-one!”

“No one who says their ‘almost’ age isn’t a brat,” he replied without inflection, loosening the tire. I opened my mouth to argue, but dammit, he was probably right, and anything I said in response would only make me look worse. Smartass bastard.

Levi carried the spare tire to my car, where I had it attached after a few more minutes of nearly getting frostbite. As I was packing up my supplies, I heard fast footfalls against the road and looked up to see Hanji rapidly approaching. “Eren! You about to head off?”

“Yeah.” It was past 1 AM now, and what I wanted more than anything in the world was to crawl into a warm bed and hibernate.

“Just a second.” Hanji pulled out their phone and made to hand it to me, only to hesitate again when they saw my black hands. “Er, on second thought, could you just tell me your number? So we can get in touch later?”

A minute later my digits were entered into Hanji’s contacts, along with a photo of Hanji squeezing me to their side like a favorite stuffed animal while I winced in discomfort. “Drive safe, Eren!” they called, running back to the caravan parked several yards down the country road. I gave one last wave before collapsing into my seat and slamming the door. Thank god, the car started up cheerily and I saw soon speeding past them into the darkness toward the highway. The radio station I had been listening to was on a commercial break, but if being yelled at by a stranger about plumbing, heating, and roofing would keep me awake, then so be it.

I would have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

 

“I swear to god, Hanji,” Levi growled at his excitable back-seat buddy, “if you make that sound again, I’m forcibly removing your vocal cords and feeding them to a Beluga Whale.”

“I believe the technical term for ‘that sound’ is _squee_ ,” Erwin proffered from the front.

“But munchkin!” Hanji wailed. “He was so cute and sweet, like a piece of candy, and I just wanna pop him in my mouth—”

“God fucking dammit!” Levi pressed his fingers to his temples, fighting the urge to strangle his best friend with their seat belt. “Do you even fucking hear yourself?”

“I think,” Mike said absentmindedly, flipping through his novel, “Hanji might have a crush.”

“Disgusting.”

“I don’t remember asking you! And Mike, it’s not a crush, it’s a squish. We all know I won’t rest until I capture our dear manager’s noble heart.”

“Hanji, I appreciate your feelings, but I’ve told you before that I’m not looking—”

“ _God,_ I think I’m going to throw myself out of the truck—”

“I’m trying to read, so if you all could please keep it down—”

“Ack! Erwin, Levi kicked me!”

“Stop being a brat, then!”

Erwin let out a sigh that seemed to contain all the air in his being. Something told him he wouldn’t be getting a moment’s peace until Bean was fixed. It was going to be a very, _very_ long night.


End file.
